Adventures of an Aviatrix, in which a pilot travels the skies and the treacherous career path of Canadian commercial aviation, gaining knowledge and experience without losing her step, her licence, or her sense of humour.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

And Another One

Okay that whole "keep the early morning momentum going" thing didn't work out too well. I don't think they will call back. If they liked me and were as busy as they clearly were, they would have trained an extra captain to get ahead of the curve. I'm back to the mode of no great thing in sight, so why should I do anything now. The place was littered with study materials, abandoned after the news that my new familiarity with the Screaming Whippet wasn't going to help anyone, and their presence wasn't improving my mood any. I wanted to put them in a pile and burn them, along with my licence, but sense prevailed. Besides, hey, free books! I put them away, with a huge pile of other manuals of airplanes I have flown, wished I'd flown, had friends that have flown or just acquired because it seemed cool at the time.

I checked into that whole chicken thing. My municipality has a whole packet of rules about chickens. There isn't enough room to accommodate the chickens here, not with following all the rules about the amount of indoor and outdoor space and the chicken jacuzzis and the distance from all dwellings they have to be. I'm also not allowed to hatch my own chickens, because both baby chicks and male chickens are illegal. The truth is, I probably didn't want to do that much work anyway. Chickens need a lot of looking after. How does anyone ever decide to have children? Chickens are nothing compared to kids, and if you're really fed up with them you can take them to an abattoir and then bring them home for dinner. So that means I'm apparently not properly equipped to care for a chicken. Yet they let me fly. It would be cool if they required you to get a licence and prove that you had the proper amount of space, and gave you a list of the required tasks and how much time they would all take before you were allowed to have children.

So no chickens. Maybe a rat. Do I qualify for a rat licence? It would probably bite me, anyway. Stupid rats.

I think I'll pull some of the more interesting airplane manuals out and make the groundschool thing a regular feature here. I'm going to read airplane manuals and translate them into basic silly English on the blog. But it seems like every time things go well, but the time I post blog entries about them going well, they've gone bad again. So I'm never going to tell you I have a job ever again. I'm just going to post random aircraft systems and make up stories about me flying airplanes. You'll never know if they are true or not. Maybe I've been making this all up all along.

Sigh.

Sad.

Mad.

But warm. I almost gave my old company jacket to charity last week, in anticipation of getting a new one. In that respect, if I were more organized, I'd be cold now.

7 comments:

majroj
said...

Whatever it takes, do it. You probably have the CEO's of most Canadian and upper 48 states' air ops reading your blog already.

Maybe a turtle? The hibernate, and they don't fly...and I understand that while their eggs are infrequent, when they do come, they come by the dozens, and if you cook 'em turtles TASTE LIKE CHICKEN.(;)

siamese fighting fish - the kind they keep in tiny little jars at the pet shop. set one free.

I use to have three in three seperate 10 gallon tanks. I use to take really good care of them. If you take good care of them then they can live for like 2-3 years. Mine all died around the 2 year mark but if you consider they are already 6 months old when you buy them...

I tried mating them too, with so-so results. One time my male killed the female. The other time they coupled but the female died and another time the male ate all the eggs. Oh well. That's what I get for trying to play god.

Cats. Quiet, simple, easy to deal with and they don't mind absences since they own the house anyway. And you can take them along. They do have a god complex though. And mine could tell me which were the good guys I dated and which were not.